cyphomandra

After extracting Dolly and the Cookie Bird from the morass of my room and finishing it, I then managed to leave Dolly and the Starry Bird perched on the toilet roll holder in a convention centre (I was sorting through my bag and failed to reincorporate everything). Fortunately, it was still there when I realised and went back for it. Mainly, I'm glad that I got to find out what happened without having to track down another copy, but I also tend to treat my current book as a combination wallet/entertainment item, and in this case it had my bus pass, twenty dollars and a list of transport times acting as bookmarks, all of which I'm relieved to still have.

I'll get back to the Dolly books, but in the meantime:

A good example of why I don’t read much current fantasy. ( Priestess of the White, Trudi Canavan. )

A bomb goes off in Manchester, killing a Muslim girl; her friend, who survives, is photographed helping the white English boy also caught in the blast.( Mixing It, Rosemary Hayes. )